


Distant Thunder

by alynwa



Series: Picfic Tuesday Challenge [26]
Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conclusion of the story started in "Of Cats and Spies."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distant Thunder

 

The conference table in Mr. Waverly’s office was full this particular morning.  Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin, THRUSH defector Valerie O’Shea, April Dancer, and Mark Slate had all been called in to discuss last week’s assassination of Mikhail Sukharov and Miss O’Shea’s future.

Mr. Waverly pulled his unlit pipe from his mouth and harrumphed, “Good morning, let’s get to it, shall we?  Miss O’Shea, the information you gave UNCLE was most helpful; the infiltrated governments have removed the moles and handed them over to us for interrogation.  For that, we thank you.”

Valerie nodded her acknowledgement, but said nothing.

“Our condolences again on the loss of your… _friend_ Mr. Sukharov.  I have arranged for his grandmother and you to assume new identities.  You will be relocated somewhere safe in North America to live out your lives in peace.”

“Mr. Waverly, thank you,” she said, “but before you send us away, Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin and I think we have a plan to draw out Cosmo Lawrence and Sidney Toles.”  She looked at Napoleon.

“Ah yes, sir,” he began, “With your permission, we would like to…”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

_Three days later_

The two THRUSH agents were sitting in a car with tinted windows across the street from Katz’ Delicatessen on the corner of East Houston and Ludlow Streets in New York’s Lower East Side.  One was sipping cold coffee while the other was watching through the plate glass window the two women sitting at table number seven eating their dinner. 

Cosmo Lawrence was feeling particularly smug as it had been his idea to tail Napoleon Solo and thus discover the location of the UNCLE NY HQ.  “Imagine,” he gloated, “A tailor shop as an entrance and _I_ found it!  And here you’ve headed up a satrap in Manhattan for years and never located it!”

Sidney Toles sighed loudly and exclaimed, “Yes, Cosmo, for the hundredth time: You had a good idea that paid off.  We watched Solo go in and O’Shea and Sukharov’s grandmother come out and we followed them here.  _Must_ you go on about it?”

“Oh, Old Boy, I’m just having some fun.  When the women come out, we’ll wait for an opportune moment to kill them and then we can return to the Committee and have these infernal tracking devices removed from our arms.  Tell you what: When I tell Dragi that I found UNCLE’s Headquarters, I’ll say you were a tremendous help and if she doesn’t put you back in charge of North America, I’ll find something for you to in Europe.”

Before Sidney could tell Cosmo what he could do with his “tremendous help” comment, Cosmo said, “Start the car.  They’re coming out.” 

The women walked out and headed to their right down Ludlow. 

“Perfect,” Sidney observed as he slowly pulled the car away from the curb, “There’s an alley down the end of the block.  When they are almost there, get out of the car and make them walk down to the end.  I’ll pull the car in so we’re not disturbed.  There are dumpsters back there to hide the bodies behind.”

When the women were in front of the alleyway entrance, Cosmo, who had exited the car and was trailing behind them, caught up and displaying his gun so only they could see it, commanded they walk into the alley.  Sidney immediately pulled in, shut off the motor and then got out of the car to stand next to Cosmo.

“ _Pochyemoo nas byespokoit? Mi nichyego nye sdyelali dlya vas! Vi sdyelali oshibkoo, Gospoda._ Why are you bothering us?  We've done nothing to you!  You have made a mistake, gentlemen,” the older woman said as she looked calmly at the men blocking their way.

Cosmo pulled his gun completely out of his jacket pocket and replied, “I do not speak Russian, but I don’t need to.  The language of death is universal.  Valerie, you should never have betrayed us.”

Her eyes were hard as diamonds as she replied coldly, “And you should have never killed Mikhail.”

The sound of rifles cocking above them caused both men to look up and when they looked back, both women had guns trained on them.  “Drop your weapons.  Too bad you don’t speak Russian, Darling,” April said as she pulled the gray wig off her head, “You would have known you had made a grave error.”

“And that error was,” Napoleon said as he climbed down the fire escape from the roof, “ignoring what should have been obvious.”  He landed lightly on his feel as his partner began his descent.  “Did you _really_ think you could tail the CEA of UNCLE North America undetected and find UNCLE HQ so easily if we didn’t allow it?”

“We have been following you following Miss O’Shea and Agent Dancer since the beginning.  If you had tried to contact the Central Committee, you would have found you could not get through,” Illya added as he came alongside Napoleon.  “I’ve activated my homing device; Mark and a cleanup crew will be here momentarily.”

Valerie trained her gun at Sidney’s head.  “Did you shoot Mikhail?”

Sidney shrugged, “I don’t know, we were both shooting.  Why should you care? Dead is dead.”

She blinked at his bluntness.  “I guess you’re right.  April, Illya, Napoleon, I can still help you.  Roll up your sleeves!” she barked at the THRUSH.  When they complied she said, “See those identical marks on their left arms?  Tracking devices; don’t let them wear them back to HQ.”

Cosmo recoiled, “They’ll explode if tampered with!  You’ll kill us!”

Illya pulled a device from his inner jacket pocket.  “This signal jammer not only blocks your ability to transmit a message, it blocks your handlers’ ability to track you in addition to preventing the devices from being detonated remotely.  We will remove them in Medical and then, you will be interrogated.  What happens to you after that is up to Mr. Waverly.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

_Six weeks later_

Napoleon, Illya, Mark and April were enjoying a rare lunch together in the Commissary.  The two teams had returned after completing successful missions based on the information gleaned from the minds of Cosmo Lawrence and Sidney Toles while they were under the influence of UNCLE’s truth serum, Veritol 19.  THRUSH had been dealt backbreaking blows, but its leader, Dragica Kosovo, had managed to stay two steps ahead of UNCLE and her current whereabouts were unknown.

Napoleon bit and chewed his sandwich before saying, “Matt Christie* has overseen the relocation of Valerie O’Shea and Victoria Sukharov.  Their new identities make them great – aunt and niece and only Matt and Mr. Waverly know where they are.  I do know that Toles and Lawrence had their memories wiped after debriefing and were also relocated somewhere in North Dakota.”

Mark poured catsup on his fries and said, “From what they told us about this Dragi, she wouldn’t care that they have no memory of THRUSH or UNCLE, she’d kill them anyway for failing.  I don’t understand how people can be loyal to someone like that.”

Illya stole some of Napoleon’s chips and popped them into his mouth.  “It is not loyalty, it is a combination of fear and waiting for an opportunity to take over that keeps THRUSH’s Central Committee together.  That is why the leadership changes so frequently.  An organization full of megalomaniacs must always be in a state of flux.

“We have not heard the last of Dragica Kosovo,” April predicted, “She’s out there plotting somewhere.”

The CEA shrugged.  “When she raises her head, we’ll cut it off.  UNCLE will prevail.  We have no other choice; the alternative is unthinkable.”

Illya raised his coffee cup.  “To UNCLE.”

His companions followed suit.  “To UNCLE!”

 

*Matt Christie, former # 2, Section III, now # 1, was first introduced in my tale “Betrayal.”


End file.
